Too Pretty
by PhoenixStarry
Summary: Jack Napier is a young boy who grew up in the weird and wonderful world of the circus. One day he vanishes without a trace but years later he returns to get revenge on the person who scarred him for life.


Too Pretty.

The paintbrush swirled in the cup of water making it change different colors. A young woman was carefully painting a huge poster which had the words "Jack of Knaves" written on it in bold, bright letters. She was very excited about the show tonight; it was going to be the first show that her son was going to perform in. Her husband, Lorc n had being training him for about two years and now, the big night had finally arrived. There was a knock on the door and a man entered. He walked over to table and looked down at the large piece of paper.

"Arienette, is the poster finished?"

Arienette nodded and looked at her husband. She noticed that he was wearing his costume. It was blue and silver, three silver stars had been sewn onto the fabric on his chest. Lorc n was an acrobat and was also performing tonight alongside their son.

"Great!" Lorc n's eyes brightened as he grabbed the poster and examined every little detail it entailed.

The woman smiled as she gazed at her husband's face. It was always a good sign when he was in a happy mood...she wished he could always be like that. She was quickly snapped out of her thoughts by a low growl. Lorc n was glaring at her over the top of the poster. Anger flashed in his eyes as he dropped the poster onto the floor, stamping on it with his foot. Arienette gasped and stared down at her ruined poster that had been ripped by the force of her husband's boot.

"Why does it only say Jack of Knaves?" he whispered dangerously, copper eyes piercing her soft jade ones.

Trembling, Arienette stared back at the furious man. She knew that she had to answer him but the words seemed to get caught in her throat.

"Answer me!" He gripped her throat and leaned closer to her face. "Why didn't you put my stage name?" he spat, making her struggle and claw at his hands.

"I just thought that because it's Jack's first performance it could be all about him..."

Arienette knew she had said the wrong thing. As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back. Lorc n's mouth opened in outrage and he squeezed her throat tighter. The woman could feel the oxygen leaving her body as she desperately tried to break free from his hold. Lorc n bent towards her ear and bit it roughly. Blood seeped from it and slid down her jaw, dripping onto her white shirt. Arienette tried to cry out in pain but Lorc n was still clutching her tightly.

"Do the poster again...and this time...PUT MY NAME ON IT!" he growled loudly, shoving her to the side as he turned and stomped out the door, slamming it forcefully behind him.

Arienette stroked her throat and gulped down large amounts of air. After a few moments of regaining her breath, she stood up shakily and stumbled over to the kitchen that was in a small corner of the living room. Arienette had always hated living in a caravan because of how small it was and how it was never in the same place for more than a week. She dreamed of living in a nice family home with her beautiful son and a loving husband. That was never going to happen.

Grabbing a napkin from the counter, she held it under the tap, letting it soak up some water. She held it to her bloody ear and glanced down at her ripped poster. Sighing, Arienette sat down at the table with a new blank piece of paper and her paintbrush. Instead of painting the words "Jack of Knaves, she painted, "The Shooting Star." She knew that Lorc n didn't want their son Jack to steal the limelight, and that he was going to try and make tonight his night instead.

Lorc n paced angrily behind the red velvet curtains that shielded him from the audience's view. He glanced up at the clock that hung on the opposite wall and growled. Where was Jack? Lorc n didn't like how the evening was going so far. First his good for nothing wife screwed up the poster and now his stupid brat of a son was nowhere to be found. Sometimes Lorc n couldn't stand his family.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard from behind him, Lorc n spun around to see who it was. Standing in front of him was Jack and Arienette. Jack was wearing a black and white checkered button down shirt with the words Jack of Knaves printed across the front. He also wore trousers that had one leg colored black and the other white. His stage name was written in purple letters up the right leg, along with the rest of his outfit. He also wore black and white converse sneakers. Frowning, Lorc n looked him up and down, very displeased. He didn't think that Jack should have been wearing that type of clothing in a circus! He should be wearing a skin tight costume like his. The taller man growled again, now glaring at the woman standing next to his son.

"What the hell is he wearing that for?"

Arienette flinched and glanced down at Jack's clothes. Jack wasn't paying attention to either of them, he was too busy staring at the curtain and listening to the sounds of the excited audience. He could hear them cheering and laughing as they watched different acts perform. He twirled one of his knives nervously in his hand, wondering if they would react the same way to him as the previous acts before him.

"Well, he doesn't have to wear a costume like yours, he isn't an acrobat...and...he doesn't really need to be wearing a flexible material and well...it suits him..." Arienette stuttered.

Lorc n sniffed and shot the woman another glare before turning his attention to his son. "Boy, when we go out there, I don't want you to embarrass me by making a fool out of yourself. I also don't want you to try and steal the limelight, because we all know that I'm the star of this act, and not some little boy like you...Got that?"

Jack looked over at his father and shook his head. "If you don't want me to upstage you, then why did you train me in the first place?" the boy muttered coldly.

Lorc n's nostrils flared angrily, his eyes narrowed. Jack was getting far too cheeky for his own good. Sometimes he felt ashamed of Jack because all of the other performers always said that the young boy was too pretty and not freaky looking enough to be in the circus. All the other performers had some sort of deformity on their body. They thought it was strange that Lorc n was born with two missing fingers and his wife had one missing toe. But when Jack was born, he was perfect. There were no signs of anything that was out of the ordinary. At times, Lorc n had thought of chopping one of Jack's fingers off or scarring him in some sort of way so that he would fit in more, and wouldn't be an embarrassment to the Napier family. But, seeing as how Jack was now thirteen years old, he realized that it would be quite difficult to do something of that nature, so he shook those thoughts from the back of his mind, and turned back towards the curtain.

"I'll deal with you after the show you little brat," he muttered. Jack rolled his eyes and stood in front of the curtain. Another man's voice was heard as he introduced the next act. Jack took a shaky breath and tried to calm his nerves. He just had to stay focused and give them the best performance they had ever seen. He wasn't doing this for his father; he was doing it for himself.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I would like to introduce the next act! The wonderful and dazzling acrobat, The Shooting Star and his son the knife thrower, Jack of Knaves!"

The audience burst out into applause and cheers as the curtains drew, revealing Lorc n and Jack. They both had their backs facing the audience as music started to play. Lorc n turned around and ran down towards the front of the stage while doing several flips and somersaults and then bowing to the audience who still clapped enthusiastically. Lorc n smirked and made his way to the ladder that led him to the trapeze. When he reached the top, he glanced down at Jack to see if he was still standing with his back to the audience. He didn't want him to turn around and start doing stuff with those damn knives of his when he was about to do his act. He was still in the same spot that his father had left him in.

Lorc n smirked again then raised his arms high, about to start his act. He jumped into the air and grabbed onto the first trapeze. The audience gasped and looked up in awe as he swung and did all sorts of flips and twists in the air. Jack looked at his father and rolled his eyes. He was such a show off but Jack was about to change that.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and a blue shadow was cast over the stage. The audience turned to the stage, interested to see what was going to happen. Lorc n was still doing different things in the air but could see that nobody was paying attention to him. He stopped what he was doing and glared down at his son. Slow music started to play and the audience stayed quiet, waiting for the act to begin. Jack slowly took out two knives from his pocket and slowly began to juggle them. He then started to move faster as the music became more dramatic. As he was juggling he reached into his pocket again and continued to add more knives. He was soon juggling with five knives at an incredible speed. The audience cheered and clapped wildly. They were amazed that such a young boy could do something that talented. The music suddenly stopped and the stage went dark. Children screamed excitedly as they waited for something to happen.

Fire burst into life all around the stage and surrounded it with its flickering flames. The light came back on but this time it was a red color. The music had also returned with a faster song. Jack turned around and winked at the audience. Some teenage girls giggled. He was cute. He casually walked over to the fire, shoving one of the knives into the dancing flames. The fire spread down the blade but stopped at the hilt. People gasped and covered their eyes with their hands. They knew what was coming next. Jack did the same to another blade and started to juggle yet again. He did the same as before but this time all five knives had a brightly lit fire on them. The knives were thrown higher into the air, making the fire look like a dazzling light show. As the music began to finish, Jack caught four blades, two in each hand. The fifth knife still twirled and twisting brightly in the air as it fell towards Jack, hilt first. The boy narrowed his eyes in concentration, opening his mouth. He felt the hilt go in his mouth and held it steady with his teeth.

There was a moment of silence then the place burst out with applause. People stood up and clapped loudly and screamed in excitement. Children jumped up and down in their chairs, trying to get a better look at Jack. Jack took the knife out of his mouth and walked over to a bucket of water that was placed near the curtain. He dropped the flaming knives into the water and watched as the fires sizzled out, steam rising from the bucket. Taking a deep breath he turned back to the audience and smiled charmingly at them. He bowed his head as the cheers became louder and louder.

The thirteen year old glanced up at his father who had a look of shock and outrage on his face. He smirked. He guessed he had upstaged him after all. Jack backed away towards the curtains and waited for his father to join him. Once Lorc n had joined him they both turned to the audience and bowed, making the excited people scream and chant with more and more excitement. Lorc n drew in an angry breath and fixed his gaze to the floor as the curtain began to close in front of them. They were chanting for Jack, not him. As the curtains finally closed and muffled out the audience's screams of delight and happiness, Lorc n looked at Jack, disgust evident in his eyes.

"You stupid brat!" he spat angrily, stomping towards Jack. He raised his hand and glared down at the young teenager in front of him. Jack stood his ground and glared back through fearless eyes. He wasn't scared of his father.

"You're pathetic." Jack clenched his fist, knowing what was coming next. A large hand struck Jack hard across the face and sent him sprawling to the floor. His father stood above him, breathing heavily. The boy clutched his red cheek, looking up at him through his black eyelashes. He knew his father wasn't done with him yet. Lorc n grabbed Jack from the floor by the front of his shirt, bringing him closer so that their faces were just an inch apart.

"You're no son of mine," he whispered. Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust. Lorc n sniffed then spat right in Jack's face. Jack growled and began to struggle against the older man but was shoved roughly into a wooden post that held the curtains up. He crumpled to the floor. When he looked back up, his father was gone. Jack punched the floor angrily and cursed to himself for not fighting back. With disgust, he wiped the spit off his face. He thought about the last thing his father had said to him and smirked. He didn't want to be the son of that...thing. Jack was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard quiet footsteps shuffle closer towards him. He looked up and saw his mother approach him with a sad expression on her face. She bent down and wrapped her thin arms around him, hugging him gently. Jack stayed still and listened to his mother's soft breathing, closing his eyes. He could always count on her to be there when he needed her. He felt his mother softly stroke his hair and whisper words of comfort to him.

"It'll be alright darling." Jack smiled and quickly hugged his mother back. He had never been the one to show any sort of emotion that involved love but he wanted to let his mother know that he really appreciated it. Arienette stood up, bringing Jack up with her. "We should get going now honey."

Jack sighed and nodded as he followed his mother out the metal door that led to the caravan site. It was really dark outside, and it was hard for them to find their caravan. When they finally found it and approached the door, they heard voices coming from inside. Arienette glanced at Jack with a puzzled look and Jack shrugged. She pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit living room. Lorc n was sitting at the small kitchen table with another man. The blond realized that the other man was in fact Dr. Victor Gonzalez. Jack hated that man so much. Whenever he was in the same room as Jack, he would always stare at him and say inappropriate things to him. His father and the doctor were calmly sipping tea and talking quietly to each other. When they heard Jack and his mother at the door they both looked up.

"Where have you two been?" Lorc n asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

Arienette shook her head and quickly made her way over to the table. She began clearing away the crumbs and spillages the two men had made. Jack looked at his mother in disbelief. Why was she clearing their mess up after them? He then realized that his father was still waiting for an answer.

"What's it to you?" he sneered, eyes narrowing.

Lorc n took a deep calming breath before turning to the man sitting beside him.

"You see what I mean, he's getting far too spoiled and cheeky for his own good...Is he sick?"

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. No he wasn't sick! Why would he be sick? He turned his gaze to the doctor who was calmly cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt. The doctor slowly looked up and met Jack's confused scowl. He gave a sympathetic nod and cleared his throat.

"Jack, I'm sorry to say that you are indeed sick."

Jack balled his hands into fists and shook his head. "How the hell am I sick?" he growled, trying to keep himself from shaking in anger. Lorc n rose from the table and gave Jack a warning look.

"Don't you dare talk to Dr. Gonzalez like that again!" He was about to make his way around the table towards Jack, but was stopped by a hand.

"It's okay Lorc n." Victor then turned towards Jack and put his glasses back on. "You see Jack, your father has been telling me that you haven't been listening to him and not doing as you're told. We have both come to the conclusion that you think you are superior to everybody else in this circus because you don't have any sort of scarring or deformities. There has also been talk throughout the religious performers that you must have been sent from the Devil himself."

Jack's mouth fell open. What the hell was he talking about? Did he just call him evil? Jack's father nodded in agreement.

"So we have both decided that we are going to take you down a peg or two."

There was a crash from the kitchen area and all three of them looked over to see Arienette quickly brush up a shattered plate. Lorc n shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Jack stood rooted to the spot, taking in all the new information. He then spun around and stormed off towards the door that led to the bedrooms.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lorc n called after him. Jack froze then turned his head to the side, looking at him through the corner of his eye.

"I don't need this." He then left through the door.

When Jack entered his room, he slammed the door shut and pounced onto his bed. He angrily grabbed the pillow and started twisting it in his hands, wishing it was his dad's scrawny neck. How dare they say that to him! What gave them the right to think of him like that? Jack turned his face to the side and gazed out the small window at the glowing moon. He had always known he was different but he didn't know that some of the performers thought he was evil.

His eyes widened. Everything made sense now. He remembered a few weeks back when he walked past the tent where the religious performers would pray and talk about different issues. He had just been walking past minding his own business when he saw them all sitting outside reading their Bibles. When they saw him they all leapt up from the grass and held their books close to them. One of them started whispering words in a foreign language and the rest fell to their knees and started praying. Now Jack knew why they had reacted like that. They had been trying to get rid of the "evil" he supposedly had. Jack hated it here and he hated everybody in this damn circus, except from his mother.

He wished he could just run away and start a whole new life somewhere else, somewhere where nobody knew who he was, somewhere where he could be whoever he wanted to be. Jack had made up his mind. He jumped up from his bed and silently tiptoed over to his window. He flung it open and looked out over the campsite. The world was waiting for him. He carefully climbed up onto the windowsill and swung his legs over to the other side so that he was sitting on it. Jack knew that this was going to be his one and only chance to escape so he had to take it, but he didn't want to leave his mother here alone. After a few minutes of thinking, he decided that he would come back for her once he found somewhere for them to live. Without a second thought he jumped down from the window and landed softly on the wet grass. He took one last look at the caravan then took off running through the campsite.

Jack stopped to catch his breath when he had reached the building where the stage was. He quickly glanced around to see if anyone had seen him. After seeing nobody, he walked around the building, heading for the dirt road that led away from the circus. When he rounded the corner he banged into someone and was sent tumbling to the ground. He grumbled in annoyance and looked up to see someone he didn't want to see. It was Dr. Victor Gonzalez.

"Hello Jack."

Jack quickly scooted backwards, trying to get away from the man.

"Oh Jack, it's okay, I'm here to help you." Extending his hand out, he waited for Jack to take it. Jack glared at the hand and pushed it out of the way, getting shakily to his feet. Victor smiled at Jack and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. Jack stared at the arm in irritation. Couldn't this guy see that he didn't want him anywhere near him?

"Listen Jack...I know you have a hard life right now but I can help you with that." Victor began walking around the building, heading towards the training area. Jack struggled out of his grasp and backed away from him.

"Where are you taking me?"

Victor laughed and took hold of Jack's wrist. "It's okay; we're just going somewhere quiet so we can have a little chat all right?"

Victor continued on his way to the training area with Jack being half dragged behind him. Once they had reached the door, Victor knocked lightly three times and the door swung open to reveal a darkened room. When the door shut behind them, Jack looked back to see one of the circus performers standing over by the door. He was shaking and refused to look directly at Jack. Victor pushed him over towards the middle of the room and motioned for him to sit down on a wooden chair that had been placed there. He then turned back to the performer and nodded. The other man jumped and quickly flicked on the light, then without a second thought, raced out the room. Jack wondered why the performer was acting like that, but he didn't have any time to dwell on it because he was suddenly grabbed by the wrists and was pulled forward. He felt something thick coil tightly around his wrists and he looked down to see that he was being bound by a thick rope. The blond couldn't understand what was happening and stared at Victor in shock. Victor smirked at Jack, then bent down and tied his ankles together with another rope.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jack struggled and kicked, trying to wriggle his way free of the ropes and the chair he had been bound to. There was a moment of silence, then a light chuckle echoed around the room. Jack's eyes widened as he turned his head, trying to see the man behind him.

"I thought I told you to never talk to Dr. Gonzalez like that..."

Lorc n slowly walked around Jack's chair so that he was standing right in front of him. He leaned in towards his face and grinned. Jack flinched away from the man but didn't break eye contact. Lorc n rolled his eyes and moved away, turning to Victor.

"Go and stand behind him will you Vic?" Victor nodded and happily skipped over to Jack. Lorc n grinned and stood in front of his son. Jack looked at both men and began struggling again.

"Come on Jackie boy...don't make this more difficult on yourself."

"What are you talking about? Don't make what more difficult?" he growled in agitation as he stared up at his father and the other man.

Lorc n reached into the pocket of his costume and pulled out something silver. On closer inspection Jack realized that it was one of his throwing knives. Why did his father have that? Jack suddenly felt something close around his head and realized that the doctor was holding his head still. His father grinned and nodded at Victor then brought the knife closer to Jack's face. He gently brushed the cool silver against Jack's cheek and slid it over his nose and then up to his eyebrow. It was like he was teasing him with it. Jack watched the knife carefully, not daring to move. The knife was brought down to his neck, and then up to his jaw, cutting him a bit when it slid up his neck. It stopped and brushed over his pink lips. He glanced up and looked into his father's eyes. There was a glint of something in those dark eyes. Jack knew he had to escape or he was going to either get seriously injured or maybe even killed. He started to jerk his head from side to side, trying to get Victor's dirty hands off him. Victor grunted and tightened his grip. Jack felt as though his head was going to explode. He screamed in pain and moved his body to try and get away. The chair shook and threatened to topple backwards but Victor held it steady with the bottom half of his body. Lorc n jabbed Jack's lips with the tip of the knife, drawing blood.

"Stop struggling!" he then shoved the knife roughly into the young boy's mouth. Jack stopped struggling immediately and shot his father a dirty look. He wasn't going to get away with this. Lorc n smiled widely and laughed at Jack's expression.

"Aww Jackie, why the long face, huh?" He playfully wiggled the knife inside Jack's mouth and laughed again when he saw Jack's eyes widen. "You're always so serious...you need to learn to smile more." Lorc n then moved the knife quickly to the corner of his mouth and leaned in closer so that he could whisper in Jack's ear. "Why so serious?" From that point on, it all happened too fast for Jack to even realize what was going on. He felt searing pain in his left cheek, tasting the coppery metallic taste of blood fill his mouth. He felt the sharp knife slit deeper and deeper into his cheek and felt it being painfully dragged slowly up his jaw. He also felt blood seep from the deep gash and slide down his jaw, mouth and chin. It dripped onto his neck and splashed to the floor, creating small deep red puddles. He could hear his father laugh hysterically but he sounded so far away, so distant. Something moved and attacked the other side of his mouth. Jack realized that it was still the knife.

His knife.

He heard a choked scream erupt from his throat, the feeling of hot tears stung at the corners of his eyes. This was unbearable. The knife did the same as it had done before but it wasn't dragged as far up as it was the first time. Blood trickled from the slit and dotted his costume, making it look like he had spilled red wine on himself. Without warning, Jack felt himself being roughly pushed back and felt his arms and ankles being untied. He was slipping into unconsciousness but managed to make out a dark figure loom over him.

"You're not so pretty and perfect now are you, Jackie boy?"

Jack heard the two men laughing and a door slam then everything went dark.

When Jack woke up he saw nothing. The room was filled with darkness and shadows that seemed to be moving closer and closer towards him. The boy jumped up and found himself shaking with fear. He didn't know why he was scared. He felt the pain pound in his cheeks as he groped around for the light switch. When he could finally see, he looked at the chair he had been sitting on. Dry blood flecked the area around the chair and the knife that lay on the ground beside it. Jack stumbled towards the knife and carefully picked it up with his shaking hand. He just couldn't believe that his father had done that to him. He shook his head and pocketed the knife.

It was time for him to leave.

As he approached the closed door his eye caught something. An old dirty piece of paper was scrunched up in a ball next to a small rusty bucket. Jack picked it up and slowly smoothed it out. He was disappointed to see that it was just an old blank bit of paper. Just as he was going to throw it down, he had an idea. He had to let his mother know he was going. Jack fell to the floor and lay the paper down in front of him. Searching around the training area, he found no pencils or anything that he could write with. He gingerly reached up and softly touched one of his cheeks. Blood began to pour out immediately. He felt tears threaten to fall but blinked them back, refusing to cry again. He carefully ran two fingers up his jaw, coating them with the crimson liquid. He felt disgusted doing this but it had to be done. His fingers dropped to the paper and he began writing. He wrote about how he loved his mother very much and that she shouldn't worry about him. Jack decided he couldn't write any more than that, because the unbearable pain in his cheeks hurt too badly and made him feel sick.

Once he had gotten to his feet with the paper in hand, he looked around for anything that would stop the gushing of blood. He noticed a small cloth lying in one of the buckets. Picking it up, he noticed that it was wet and wrinkled his nose in disgust. It would have to do for now. He pressed it to his bleeding wounds and quickly walked out the door. When he got outside he heard birds chirping happily and saw that the sun was rising. He didn't have a lot of time now. Jack ran as fast as his tired legs would allow him towards the caravan. He quietly walked towards the steps that led to the front door and frowned. Where was he going to leave the letter so that his mother would see it before his father? Then he remembered. His mother loved plants and kept a whole bunch of them around the back of the caravan.

Stumbling down the stairs, he raced around to the back. There was a lot of beautiful flowers that were surrounded by a small white fence. They varied in color and stood out brightly against the flaky white paint on the caravan. Jack walked over to a pot of purple flowers and carefully placed the piece of paper among the violet leaves. His father hated flowers so he would never find it. Jack heard a grunt and his head shot up to the window that was above him. It was his parents bedroom and he could hear his father mumble and shuffle around inside. Jack wasted no time and made a run for it. He ran all the way to the dirt road. Once he had reached it he looked back at the circus. He could see people getting out of their caravans and tents, ready for the start of a new day. He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. He couldn't stand being here another minute with his father and all those stupid performers. It was time for him to start a new life and become anything he wanted to be.

"Bye mother..."

He then headed down the road without looking back...

Ten years later.

Raindrops pelted the windows of the large van that rumbled down the road. A masked man sat in the driver's seat, squinting through the sheets of rain. A campsite came into view and he smiled beneath his mask. His boss was going to be so proud of him. The man glanced at the passenger and cleared his throat quietly. The man looked up from the knife he was playing with and gave the man a bored look.

"What is it Dopey? the man said, annoyed that his henchman had interrupted him and his knife.

Dopey bowed his head as if he were ashamed about something then nodded towards the view in front of them.

"We're here boss..."

The other man quickly looked ahead and grinned. As the van slowed to a stop, he quickly checked his appearance in the mirror on his visor. His makeup had mixed together and his blood red scars stood out brightly against his white painted skin. His hair was tinted green and was pushed back from his face so that it would be clearer to see.

Everything was perfect.

He smirked at his reflection then excitedly flung open the van door and jumped out. The henchman quickly followed and went round to wait at the front of the van. He saw his boss bang loudly on the side of it and heard muffled voices coming from inside.

"Hurry it up boys!" The back doors opened and more masked men clambered out. They stared after the clown who was already making his way towards the campsite. Without hesitation they quickly followed and walked silently behind him. They were terrified of him and knew that the people they were going to see would be too. The painted man's purple coat swished in the wind around him as he walked happily down a small dirt road. How he had waited for this day to come. It had all started when he had overheard one of his goons mention that the circus was coming and that they were going to be just outside of Gotham. So he decided to pay it a little visit.

The clown's grin widened as he came to the end of the path and was met with rows of tiny tents and caravans. Performers were all over the place. Some were practicing for their acts while others watched and chatted amongst themselves. One performer looked up at the sound of footsteps and gasped. He dropped his props and dashed quickly into a tent. After seeing the man's reaction, the other performers glanced curiously over to see who it was. Standing in front of them was a small group of masked men, in front of them stood a grinning clown. A small boy whimpered and snuggled closer to his shaking mother, terrified whispers filling the air.

"That's the Joker..."

The man known as the Joker giggled and sauntered forward. He stood in front of the man who had spoken and crouched down to where the man was sitting.

"So, you've heard of me! I'm so very flattered," he smirked as he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a small silver knife. The man flinched and tried to move away but wasn't quick enough. The Joker jerked the man back by his hair and held the knife to his throat.

"Do you happen to know where a certain Lorc n Napier is?" The man nodded his head quickly and pointed over to a large building. The Joker followed the man's finger and saw that it was where the stage had been many years ago. His tongue darted out his mouth, wetting his chapped lips. He nodded and made a humming sound as he locked eyes with the frightened man.

"Thank you." He then straightened up and snapped his fingers at one of his men before heading in the direction of the stage. A masked man raised his gun and fired it at the man the Joker had just been talking too. The bullet went through the man's right temple. Screams echoed throughout the campsite as the other performers watched in horror. The Joker twirled around to face them, pressing a finger to his lips. The noise stopped immediately. The clown stifled a laugh as he continued to the stage area, his henchmen close behind. When the Joker opened the door to the building, he found himself backstage and noticed that the curtains were closed. He could hear cheers and clapping from the other side of the curtain and quickly realized that there was a show already on.

Perfect.

Walking slowly to the red curtains, he pressed his ear against the fabric and waited.

"Look at The Shooting Star go!" the announcer shouted. Cheers erupted once more and the Joker took that as his cue to go on. He laughed lowly and pulled the curtain back so that he could get onto the stage. The cheers died down as the audience saw the man step out from behind the curtain. They started to talk amongst themselves as they looked curiously at the man and the others that had clown masks covering their faces. Some people knew who he was right away and tried to run to the exit.

"Please sit everyone! Enjoy the show!" the Joker glared over at the people who were trying to escape. They yelped and ran back to their seats. A creaking noise came from behind the Joker and he turned his head to see a man climb down from a ladder. The Joker noticed that it was the man that he loathed more than anyone else, and smirked. His father sure had let himself go. He was much fatter and had grey thinning hair, but he still had the same angry expression that he had shown him when he was still Jack Napier.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

The Joker laughed and skipped over to the man. He cocked his head to the side and looked straight into the man's eyes. "Don't you remember me Daddy?" he mocked a look of hurt but his eyes twinkled with excitement.

Lorc n scowled and stared at the clown, confusion etched all over his face. His eyes stared deep into those excited brown eyes of the clown's, letting them travel down to those hideous scars on each of the man's cheeks. Lorc n's jaw dropped and he gasped. This was his son. The son he hadn't seen in ten years. This was Jack. The Joker grinned and smacked his lips together as he circled around his father.

"Look at you, you look like such an old man!" The Joker giggled wickedly then turned to his henchmen. "Make sure nobody escapes."

The clown goons nodded and pointed their guns towards the audience, making everybody shrink back in fear. The Joker then reached into his pocket and slowly slipped one of his knives out and held it near his face. He looked down at it, almost lovingly. Without taking his eyes off the glinting steel in front of him, he waved at two of the masked men to come over. They quickly rushed over and awaited for their boss to give orders.

"Keep him still..."

The clowns nodded in agreement, and grabbed Lorc n by the arms, shoving him down onto his knees. The Joker finally averted his gaze from his weapon and looked at the three men. He sighed and shook his head.

"I need another one," he waved another goon over and pointed at Lorc n's head. "Hold his head still, will ya?"

The other masked man rushed forward, tripping over his own feet in the process. Once Lorc n was completely still, The Joker crouched down in front of him and stroked his cheek with the blade. He felt Lorc n shiver. He grinned, remembering something as he looked fiercely into his father's eyes.

"Where's mother?" he growled.

Lorc n chuckled and closed his eyes. The Joker's eyes narrowed and he pressed the knife harder into the man's cheek, drawing blood.

"I killed her."

The Joker drew in a breath.

"Why?"

Lorc n bit his bottom lip, trying to hide his wide grin.

"Well, when she had found out what I did to you," Lorc n's eyes trailed down to the scars, "she tried to leave me, and I didn't really like that, so I killed her. But when you think about it...it's really all your fault Jack?"

The Joker smirked and shook his head. He then leaned forward and shoved the knife into his father's mouth.

"You never learn do you Daddy?" he growled quietly, as he slashed the knife roughly across Lorc n's mouth and trailed it slowly and painfully up his cheek. The older man screamed in agony and tried to twist his head free but couldn't. The Joker continued his assault and sliced the knife up his cheek and towards his hairline. He dragged the knife through the man's sweat drenched hair and scraped it across his scalp. Lorc n writhed in pure agony and pain. Blood trickled down his forehead and slid down his face, blood freely flowed from his mouth and onto the floor. He retched and tasted vomit in his mouth. The Joker smiled widely as he attacked the other side. Once both gashes had been completed, he gripped the man's hair and yanked his head back, their eyes connecting with each other. He calmly brought the knife down to Lorc n's neck and pushed it softly against his throat. The younger man then glanced at the audience and saw that all eyes were fixed upon the wounded and shaken man.

"Look Daddy...you're the center of attention...just like you always wanted." he giggled loudly as he swiftly plunged the knife deep into Lorc n's throat. Lorc n howled in pain and twisted and turned, the Joker laughing manically as he stabbed again and again, making blood spurt uncontrollably. After a few short moments, Lorc n went limp in the goons' arms. The Joker calmed his erratic breathing and cleaned his knife on his father's costume. He turned on his heel and walked back over to the curtain. The adrenaline was seeping slowly from his body. He gazed out at the terrified audience and grinned.

"What a show huh?" Smiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card, chucking it at the corpse of his father. "So that the famous Batman can find me!" he giggled wildly and skipped through the curtain. The audience sighed in relief as they watched the henchmen follow their boss.

"Oh I almost forgot!" The Joker emerged from behind the curtain again, holding a bomb of some sort. He walked casually over to the middle of the stage and set it down. In his other hand he held a detonator. He grinned and saluted to the audience. "See ya!" He then disappeared behind the curtain once again. Once he had got outside, he looked back at the building and sighed.

"Well it's been fun," he said, listening happily to the screams of terror sound from inside.

The button was pushed.

He clapped his hands together as he watched the building burst in flames. He had always loved fireworks. The group of criminals made their way back to the van, their boss proudly leading the way. As the van pulled away from the burning circus, the Joker stretched and put his arms behind his head.

"Here I come Batman!" 


End file.
